


Cola

by sammys_lover



Category: Helluva Boss (Web Series)
Genre: Aftercare, Begging, Cries in bisexual, Cuckquean, Dirty Talk, Drinking, Drug Use, F/M, Face-Fucking, Face-Sitting, Friends with benefits???????, Gets softer later, Hair-pulling, Holding Hands, I'm Sorry, It's real hoe hours, Just straight-up sinning, Key Party, LEWD, Light Angst, Making Love, Maybe OOC, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Pet Names, Reader tops him, Riding, Shameless Smut, Smut, Submissive Moxxie, This Is STUPID, Top!Reader, Vaginal Sex, i dunno dude
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:07:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25836226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sammys_lover/pseuds/sammys_lover
Summary: My pussy tastes like pepsi colaMy eyes are wide like cherry pies- - - -I know your wife, and she wouldn't mindWe made it out to the other side
Relationships: Millie/Moxxie (Helluva Boss), Moxxie (Helluva Boss)/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	Cola

**Author's Note:**

> I've been called a simp for Richard Horvitz's voice and I can't even argue against it ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> I can only hope he doesn't read fics, but if he ever comes across this:
> 
> dude, I'm so sorry

It’s a wonderful day in hell, and you are a terrible human. 

Well, terrible human is a bit of an overstatement – how you got here is a long story. Let’s just say it was a silly little mix-up that landed you a job at I.M.P. 

You’ve gotta say – it's kinda swell down in Hell. If you don’t mind violence, murder, and all other sorts of heinous acts. And with your job at I.M.P, you’re a bit concerned to admit that you’ve become a little... desensitized. Just a smidge. 

Anyway – It's not all bad. Your coworkers aren’t horrible, your boss is... a little eccentric, and you’ve even met some almost-decent demons down at the Hazbin Hotel. There is, however, one tiny thing that you get a little hung up on. 

Or, rather, one imp you keep getting hung up on. 

He’s a coworker, and if it wasn’t bad enough, he’s also married. Married to someone you’re pretty good friends with now, too. 

You sip your bit of punch, standing awkwardly in the corner at this... huge party that your boss had made you all go to. Company bonding exercise, he’d said. You watch the imps and demons and damned souls party it up – bumping and grinding on one another, doing horribly dangerous quantities of drugs off of body parts you didn’t let your eyes linger on for too long. It’s a wild scene, and you’ve been hit on at least five times because hey – you're a human. All squishy and vulnerable and shit. 

You take another sip of your punch. 

It was odd how life took you to places like this. 

You’re about to venture out into the crowd to try to find one of your coworkers (who were supposed to be your ride home) when one of them finds you instead. 

You feel your heart just skip a beat when he spots you and relief washes over his features, and then you feel a twinge of guilt in your chest. Because speak of the devil, there’s that coworker you’re crushing on so horribly. 

Moxxie comes to stand by you, shouting over the music. 

“Have you seen Blitzo anywhere?” 

You shake your head ‘no’ and give him a sympathetic look. Poor guy – he seems to be the most decent character in this place, and he looks out of his element. You know he has a tendency to panic, and idly worry about having to find Millie for him in this mess. 

“Where’s Millie?” 

He nods his head in a general direction, but you can’t see over the dancing people. 

“Cutting it up on the dance floor. Where else?” 

He smiles at the thought and oh, his smile. You’re not sure what it is about his grin – maybe it’s the way his already-red cheeks had become slightly flushed. Maybe it was how his light hair was disheveled in a horrible, incredibly attractive way. Your heart flutters when he makes eye contact – and then the guilt hits you square in the chest again. 

He’s married. He’s married. He’s married. 

You take another sip of your drink to cool your face, offering him some as well – he politely declines. 

You’re about to ask him if he would like some air when the music cuts suddenly – your boss can be seen up with the demon who had been DJing – a lampshade impaled on one of his horns. He looks drunk as shit. 

“HOW’S EVERYBODY DOING TONIGHT?!” 

The crowd gives an ear-piercing “wooooooo!” in response that you see Moxxie physically cringe at. You nearly, without thinking, take his hand. But you don’t. You stuff it in your pocket to keep it in check. 

“THAT’S WHAT I WANNA HEAR! Now- now listen, it’s that time of the night! Youse guys know the drill – ladies and gents and all the other motherfuckers! PICK YOUR KEYS!” 

There’s a sudden rush to where you and Moxxie are standing, and the both of you hardly have a moment to brace yourselves before all those drunken partygoers mow over you, topping the both of you back and away from each other. 

You had been knocked back into a table and a huge tub or bowl or something full of keys come spilling out and all over the floor – and all over you. The music resumes. 

You don’t know what the fuck is happening, and because this is Hell, the first thing to your mind is a battle to the death. Can they die? If you die in Hell, do you die again and go to ANOTHER Hell? Are you reincarnated and put back on Earth??? You don’t know, and that a can of worms to deal with another day – all you know is that you’re going to heed your boss’ word and grab a fucking key. 

You blinding reach to your left and grab a key, holding onto it for dear life – or afterlife, sort of? -- the sounds of Moxxie’s screams were more those of indignity than pain, so that was a relief. And while you jabbed at various people like some sort of crackhead with a key, you realized that they weren’t after YOU. They all just wanted a key. You just didn’t know why. 

You wiggle (crawl) through the crowd in an attempt to escape, only to find Moxxie, who had ripped off someone’s arm and was using it to hit (hah) people back. Looks like he wasn’t sure what the fuck was happening either. 

And then, just as quickly as they’d all come, they were gone, and now people where clambering around with their stupid keys, coupling up on the dance floor. They bump and grind. There is cocaine everywhere. 

You and Moxxie are on a sticky floor, wide eyed-and flustered as hell. Every single key is gone – and poor Mox looks beyond irritated. He stands up and brushes himself off, offering you a hand up which you take, looking on in confusion. 

“What the FUCK WAS THAT?!” 

“I have no idea, but I DO know that I have had it up to HERE WITH THIS-” 

Millie had come from nowhere, and her sudden hand on her husband’s arm silenced him – she focuses on you, her eyes bright and excited. 

“Y/n!! Who did you get?!” 

She has a huge smile on her face, but you have... no idea what she’s talking about. 

“Mil, wha- what do you mean? Get somebody??” 

“Yeah! The keys! You know about key parties, right?” 

Uh. 

“No...?” 

She waves her hand – she seems to be under the influence of... something. But hey, she seems to be enjoying herself. 

“Key parties are where pretty much everybody,” she gestures to the huge crowd, holding a key herself. “Puts their house key in a bowl, and they get all swirled up. At the end a’ the night, everybody picks a key and goes home with their uh, new lil friend.” she winks at you, and you feel your cheeks instantly get hot again. You had no idea- you honestly thought it was a fight for your life back there. You’re still gripping your key – well, somebody else’s key, in your palm. 

You barely take notice of Mox’s stuttering and blushing at the whole ordeal, and you hold up your key to show Mil, a nervous smile on your face. 

“I uh, I got this one! How are you supposed to find the person it belongs to?” 

Millie’s face is overtaken by a huge grin when she looks at the key, and she laughs – Moxxie, on the other hand, looks mildly mortified. He seems to freeze in place. 

“Doesn’t look like you’re gonna have to look very far!” her teasing tone starts to set you at ease – until she hip-checks her husband lightly. “Does she, honey?” 

Moxxie lets out a breath that you hadn’t realized he’d been holding, and he sheepishly admits something – you assume. At first he’s too quiet – you can’t hear him over the music. 

You take a half-step closer, calling out a gentle “What?” 

His eyes meet yours – and oh boy, you’ll be damned if you said something as little as eye-contact with him didn’t make you hot. 

“I said it’s my key.” 

Oh god. 

Oh fuck. 

Oh no- 

You stammer for a moment, free hand flying over your mouth for a second before you begin to apologize and try to hand him his key – to return it to him, but Millie, to your absolute goddamn SHOCK, stops you. 

“Ah, ah, ah, gotta play the game right~” she has a devilish smirk on her face as she leans forward to whisper in your ear; “Pull the hair at the base of his horns – drives him wiiiiiiiiiiiild.” 

She pulls away and gives you a wink before giving Mox a kiss on the cheek and a slap on the ass with a “Have fun, you two!” called over her shoulder as she disappeared into the crowd again, gone just as suddenly as she had appeared. 

You and Mox stand in shock, blushing messes. 

He tries to stutter and stammer out a complete sentence, but all that comes out are half-baked sentences of embarrassment and outrage before he simply takes your hand with a “Come on!” and pulls you through the dance-floor, down a grimy stairwell, and out the doors. It’s dark out and drizzling slightly. The two of you stand outside under the awning of the building, the neon lights reflecting off the city’s pavement, illuminating your faces. 

Neither of you say anything for a solid minute. He still has not released your hand. 

“Mox...” he looks up at you, his mouth a thin line. What the fuck could you even say right now? “Y’know, if you’re not okay with this, I,” you hold out his key for him to take. “I can head home- to my own. Home. And you can go to yours and we can just not and say we did.” 

He looks at the key. 

He looks to you. 

… 

GOD, SAY SOMETHING, MAN. 

His hand envelops both yours and the key. And he gives you a look of thankfulness. You think he’s going to just take the key – but he instead pulls you by your hand out from under the awning and out into the barely-there rain. 

“You know, Y/n, that I could be telling you right now that the creatures here in Hell have special powers. Abilities. I could be giving you a speech about how I can hear your fragile, mortal heart beating like an animal in a cage. I could tell you I can feel the changes in you when you’re around me. That I know everything you’re feeling because of some power.” 

You feel your heart drop as the both of you round a corner – you continue through the city. Is that... true? 

“That, of course, would all be lies and I would sound just as cliché as some poorly written...I dunno, fanfiction. But I will tell you that I am not a fool. I have common sense, you know.” 

The two of you continue walking. 

His eyes flick to yours as you match his pace. 

“...Do you understand how inappropriate this is?” 

You nod your head. 

“We are coworkers. You are a human and I am-” he barks a bitter laugh. “-very clearly not. You wound up in Hell by mistake, and that means that you cannot stay forever.” 

Heart pounding in anticipation, you ask: “...What are you saying?” 

You arrive... somewhere. You assume to his home. To both his and his wife’s home. 

He takes the key from you now as you stand at their door. 

“...I’m saying that...” Your eyes meet, and you take in the yellow glow of his eyes – the freckles that lay across his cheeks. The raindrops that were softly set on his hair. There’s a certain softness about him that you can’t quite pinpoint, and it leaves you feeling without breath. “this will effect neither of us in the long run.” He puts the key in the lock. “So I suppose what I am saying is... well, you’re welcome inside.” 

You don’t realize that you’re holding your breath quite yet. You have to try to decide if this is real or not quickly – and you very quickly decide that it doesn’t matter. 

If he’s okay with you jumping his bones, and Millie gave you her blessing by offering advice, why not, right? 

You offer a smile, nodding. 

“Alright. Just- if you change your mind about anything, just let me know.” 

He gives you an appreciative smile before he turns the key, letting you both inside. 

*** 

It’s not long before one of you make a move. 

You’re not sure who moved to kiss who, but in the end it didn’t matter. What mattered was that your lips were connecting softly in the dim light of the living room, your hand resting on his knee. 

His lips were soft, and he tasted lightly like cinnamon – his kissed you with a tenderness that you had never known. 

You both pull away slowly, his wide eyes glowing in the dim light, your heart skipping a beat. 

That’s around the point things got intense. 

It was a mess of hands and clothes flying – grabbing, groping, exploring – as the both of you moved quickly towards the bedroom. 

You’re the one who ends up pressing him gently down on the bed, your hands resting carefully on his shoulders, the eye contact nearly too much. 

He pants gently as he watches you unhook your bra and drop it without a care to the floor, his eyes moving down to your chest, claws digging into the sheets. 

“You can touch me, y’know.” You try to sound smooth, and by the way he blushes, you’re sure you’ve nailed it – his hands come to rest on your hips, and he pulls you just a bit closer, a shiver traveling down his body as his mouth falls upon your chest, soft kisses turning into nips, hands gripping you tight as he pulled you further onto the bed. 

You wiggle free from your underwear, grinding softly against his growing bulge, which was sadly still hidden under his clothes. 

His mouth moves upward to leave a trail of messy, quick nips along your collarbone, biting down on that spot where your neck and shoulder connect, a quiet moan falling from your lips as you ground your hips again. 

He pulls off your neck, what could have been a straight-up whimper leaving him as he looked desperately up at you. 

“Sit on-” He chokes on his words at his head falls back on the pillow, eyes wide, hair splayed on the pillow. “Sit on my face.” 

He swallows hard before breathing a “please,” and you don’t hesitate to give him exactly what he wants. 

If you weren’t in hell, you would have sworn he was some kind of angel. 

He pulls you forward by your thighs, and you don’t hesitate to straddle his face – your shaking hands gripping the headboard. 

His hot, shaking breath ghosts over your bare lips, spread open for him – god, the way he’s looking at your sex actually forces a tremble to your legs – and you have to bite your lip to suppress a noise when he makes blessed, electric contact – his mouth envelops you just as his shy eyes meet yours, and a chill rips up your spine. 

You’ve been dying for this for months. You’ve been so desperate for him -- his mouth and his hands and his claws and his dick and his thoughts and his dreams and his voice – and every single urge you’d ever suppressed, every fantasy, every night you’d touched yourself and cried his name, came to the surface. 

Your thighs cradle his face as his tongue flicks from your clit to your dripping opening, a ragged moan falling from his mouth as he pushed his tongue inside you – you sink down on it greedily, moaning at the sensation. 

“Fuck, yes, just-” his tongue flicks up and down and curls to j u s t hit your g-spot, and you unthinkingly let your hands fly down to tangle in his white hair, holding his head still as you ground against him, fucking his tongue, moaning his name. “Oh, Mox...” 

You look at him with lidded eyes, your heart beating wildly in your chest. You roll your hips against his sinful mouth, electric shockwaves of arousal shooting up from where his tongue touched you, drawing your orgasm closer. 

You remember the advice you were given – pull his hair close to his horns. 

You thread your fingers through his hair, which is soft and silky, taking fistfuls of it suddenly, Moxxie’s eyes widening in the split second before you pulled it – hard. 

He moans like a fucking sub with an “oh, fuck-!” his back arching, his cock (unbeknownst to you) straining against the fabric of the little clothing he had left on. 

You’re not sure what possesses or runs through you, but you use his hair to guide his mouth back to your pussy, a dark, breathy laugh accompanying your pants as the two of you lock eyes again. 

“C’mon, baby,” you grind, your clit hard, buzzing with need. “Suck it.” 

He immediately complies, closing his mouth over your clit, his tongue swirling around it as he sucked – you want to scream out as you rode his face. 

“Fuck- yes, just like that,” you praise, tugging his hair again, his moans vibrating around your sex. “D-don’t stop-” 

You grind your hips harder- faster- your orgasm is rocketing forth, and the look on his face and the blush on his cheeks as he swallows the wetness from your sex is enough to push you over the edge – and you’re right. There. When he whimpers and whines into your sex, the vibrations just enough to throw you into a haze of pleasure. 

You cry out his name, roughly riding his face, just about smothering him with your thighs as you come undone over him. 

When your spasms slow, you have to take a moment before you move. The shy, seductive look in his eye almost making you feel bashful as he kitten-licked you, little aftershocks of sharp arousal shooting up your lower stomach. 

You have to choke back the proclamation of love that almost left you in the heat of the moment. 

You move off of him, moving down his body to hover over his cock, a hand ghosting over the head of it through the fabric of his underwear. 

“Can I ride you?” you ask, practically drooling at the thought of it. “That alright, sweetheart?” 

He fucking shivers before he frantically, breathlessly nods. 

“Please, Y/n-” You practically rip his boxers off like his was that Christmas gift you’d been wanting for years – and in a way, that was sort of true. You’ve been wanting this for so long. “Please.” 

You grab a condom off of the bedside table and roll it over him – he hisses at the contact, biting his lip as he watches you crawl up his body and hover your hips over him, your dripping pussy so close. So wet. And so fucking warm. 

You lean forward, nosing his hair out of the way to lick up his neck, to the shell of his ear. With hot, bated breath, you confess to him what you wish you never felt. 

“I’ve always wanted you, Moxxie.” 

You roll your hips softly, your lower lips just barely grazing the head of his cock, the light contact hot and blissful. 

You kiss his earlobe lightly before taking it into your mouth and dragging it between your teeth, his entire body shivering under you, his hands moving to rest softly on your hips. 

“I know.” 

You release his earlobe with a shiver of your own as you plant a final kiss to his neck before straightening yourself, your hands resting softly on his chest, the head of his throbbing cock resting right at your entrance. 

You close your eyes as you sink down on him, a strangled moan accompanying the breath that escapes your lips. 

When he’s fully sheathed in you, you give yourself a moment to adjust, opening your eyes to get a look at his face and oh... fuck, the way he looks. 

His eyes are screwed shut, his mouth agape, his head thrown back, his claws digging into the soft flesh of your hips. 

“Mox,” you breathe, dragging your thumb lightly over his bottom lip as you gently grip his chin. “Look at me.” 

He obeys, his eyes on you as you begin – you gently roll your hips, ripping a moan from him. 

"I want you to watch." 

God, he’s just the right size – he's just enough to stretch you without being too much – he thrusts up to match your hips, the both of you working to find a rhythm. 

You move over him, capturing his mouth in yours, and your kiss starts out rough – you're nipping at his lips and he drags his teeth over your bottom lip as you ride him, getting rougher as you go. 

The feeling of his cock thrusting into you, grazing your g-spot, sends you hurtling towards another orgasm, and you have to break your kiss to breathe, praising him between pants. 

“Good boy.” 

He pants a laugh, an actual, albeit tiny, smile on his face. 

You quickly fall into the pace of bouncing up and down on his cock, which just barely teasingly passes your G-spot every time your hips come down, you made sure to roll your hips in a circle -- just to watch him squirm. 

You’re not expecting him to sit up, looking at you with- with an affection that you’re not expecting, and your hips filter for a moment. He’s pulling you into his lap as he leans back against the headboard, his hands on your thighs as he encourages you to ride him like this – you do, much less rough, riding him as your arms fell to wrap around his shoulders, your hands in his soft white hair. 

You’re not sure who initiates the kiss – but before you know it, your lips are on his, moving together softly, gentle nips exchanged easily as your pace became something a bit more... sensual. 

His hands move up from your thighs to trail up your figure, to your breasts, cupping them as he ever-so-gently teased your already-sensitive nipples, his thumbs ghosting over them, sending shivers through you that you’re sure he catches. 

His cock twitches inside you as his hips grind against yours, his dominant hand moving off of your breast to make its way between your legs – his touch falls on your clit just as you break your kiss for air. 

You see stars as your hips jolt involuntarily, your inner walls clamping down around him, his moan of your name one of the hottest things you’d ever heard. 

You pull the hair close to his horns again, harder, watching his eyes look to you pleadingly as he breathed your name again. 

“Say it again, Mox,” 

You rock your hips faster, your orgasm fast-approaching as he worked your clit – the friction from the circles he was rubbing was like scratching an itch you couldn’t reach yourself – you struggle to focus on your words, your eyes burning with lust. 

“Say my name.” 

“Y/n-!” 

You give his hair another tug, and his hand picks up speed, his hips desperately trying to thrust up and into you. 

“Fu- oh, fuck, Moxxie, please don’t stop,” Your moan that follows is a guttural noise that you hardly recognize as your own as you hold your pace, your mind clouding, the spring in your gut wound too tight, ready to snap. You just need a little more- 

Mox’s downright lewd, desperate moan as his claws dug into the soft flesh of your breast is what pushes you over the edge -- the sound of him beneath you like this, panting, moaning, desperate, his cock buried deep in you- 

You cry out his name, your hips frantic as you tumbled over the edge, waves of bliss rolling over you to your farthest reaches, your toes curling as you clung to him for dear life. 

He comes not long after you, and you take the opportunity to push him flat on his back, holding him down by his wrists as you circled your hips, watching his face as he spasmed, coming hard, squirming against you. 

Even when you were sure he just couldn’t cum anymore, you continued, overstimulating yourself in the process, the both of you crying out at your merciless actions, a bit of drool running down his face as his eyes rolled back, his begging and pleading slowly dissolving into moans and noises that were indecipherable. 

When you couldn’t take it anymore, you fell still, his cock still inside you, the both of you panting messes on the bed. 

Neither one of you had your eyes open, basking in the afterglow. And you, unthinkingly, lean down, placing gentle kisses to where his neck connected to his shoulder, moving to leave a trail of butterfly kisses up his neck. 

There’s another beat of silence as the both of you catch your breath, your body blanketing his, his arms wrapped around you. 

“You okay?” 

He breathes a soft sigh as he seems to melt into the bed. “Yeah. That was- that was so...” 

You hum in agreement, pulling off him, moving to lay down beside him – he moves a blanket over the both of you, and you thank him quietly. 

“...You’re welcome to stay the night.” 

You laugh quietly, relaxing into the pillow. 

You take him up on that – and the both of you are out like lights, holding hands all night long.

**Author's Note:**

> I miiiiiiiiiiiiiight return to this one day and add a night with Millie but y'know, I just had to get this outta my system. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
